Pictures And Some Memories

Five: Hesitation Gets You Nowhere.

I closed my MacBook Pro with a satisfied smile on my face, unable to contain my excitement. "It's done," I told Carly, turning in my desk chair to face her. She was currently reviewing her bank statement, a look of annoyance on her face as she carefully went over every purchase.

"You're no longer allowed to let me spend five hundred bucks at Anthropologie in one trip again," she said dryly, ignoring my smiling face.

"You have a point, but, you now have the best velvet duvet cover and a matching armchair, so I think that purchase was worth the money."

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "What's done?" She finally addressed me, changing the subject from her lowered savings.

"I bought my tickets for California!" I squealed. "God, I can't wait to go back!"

"How does Loverboy feel about that?" She asked, smirking when I glared at the nickname her own boyfriend had given Larkin.

"He, uh, doesn't know yet..." I murmured softly, avoiding her eyes.

"Andi!" she exclaims in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"Oh, don't you dare give me that look! It's not like I've waited until a week before or anything."

"No, you've just fucked around for an entire month instead of telling him," she muttered. "Why do you keep shit like this from him? This is why he obsesses over you, you know."

I rolled my eyes. "We've both been busy lately, Carly... But, we're going out tonight. I'll tell him then."

"You better," she urged. "Jesus, this is almost as bad as when you were trying to tell you parents you wouldn't be home for Christmas."

I started to snicker, and she finally joined, the memory a hilarious moment during one of the most awkward periods of my life. It'd been right after I had formed my friendship with Carly and Alex, right before the first tour we all embarked on. I had been pacing around our dorm room for hours, trying to gain the courage to call my father and stepmother. Finally, the last possible day to notify them of my absence at the dinner table the 25th arrived, and I hadn't called. So, what does Carly do? As soon as she caught the moment, she grabbed my cell phone off of my nightstand, dials their number, then thrusts the phone into my hand as soon as my father answered, forcing the call to occur. Years later, I was obviously grateful for her intervention-- however, I still couldn't believe I was so nervous about telling them something so simple, which, still hadn't changed.

"You always need a little bit of a push," she giggled. "It's a good thing I'm happy to help you, though. Do you want me to write you a few cue cards? I have some killer lines I've been wanting you to say to him lately."

Now, it was time to roll my eyes, but my reaction was nothing more than playful. "No, but, thank you. I'm just going to his place to see tonight. I can just tell him there."

"If you say so," she replied. "But if you come through that door without telling him, I'm grounding you myself."

I snorted as I emerged into our shared loft space upstairs from the small room we used as our office. Her keyboard, acoustic, and favorite electric guitars were all neatly against her side of the space, and her desk was free of any clutter, or any sign of songwriting that she'd been doing lately. Meanwhile, I could see the chaos that was my side. The mess was mainly supplies that were strewn around the room-- an empty coffee holding paintbrushes, another filled with pencils and pens, a number of boxes filled to the max with paints of various kinds. Only a couple of pieces remained in here, soon to be hung up and critiqued by myself and Larkin in assessing if I needed to work more or if they were complete. Still, my space looked like a disaster, while Carly's was neat and organized.